Movie review: Force Majeure has cool Scandinavian sensibility

Swedish film stars Lisa Loven Kongsli, Johannes Kuhnke

A scene from the movie Force Majeure.Photo: Courtesy of Toronto International Film Festival

Katherine Monk

Published: November 20, 2014 - 12:48 PM

Updated: November 20, 2014 - 4:48 PM

Force Majeure (Turist)

4 stars out of 5

Starring: Lisa Loven Kongsli, Johannes Kuhnke, Vincent Wettergren

Directed by: Ruben Ostlund

Running time: 118 minutes

In Swedish with English subtitles
You don’t have to be a skier to fall in love with Ruben Ostlund’s psycho-drama, Force Majeure, but it does help.

People who schuss down slopes with boards strapped to their feet will appreciate the pristine, snow-caked cinematography that captures the high-alpine experience — the movie is set in the Alps — as well as its uniquely surreal quality.

From skiing in complete whiteout conditions, where forms emerge from the milky surroundings like shadowy ghosts, to the sight of avalanche bombs blasting windswept cornices, every frame of this handsome, original and entirely neurotic cinematic exercise is steeped in a Scandinavian sensibility even as it also reflects Ostlund’s years as a ski pro and a ski-film specialist. Indeed, this movie has the minimalist design elements of an Ikea cabinet as it brings us into the lives of a seemingly average Swedish family on holiday.

Tomas (Johannes Kuhnke) and his wife Ebba (Lisa Loven Kongsli) look like a model couple with their two lovely children, nice clothes, pleasant manners and quiet sense of entitlement.

But beneath this silent, snow-covered exterior lies a shifting layer of emotions that could give way at any second, and prompt an avalanche of feeling. So get ready for the rumble, because Ostlund turns this metaphor into reality by placing Tomas, Ebba and their two kids on the chalet sundeck just as a controlled slide starts to grow.

A scene from the movie Force Majeure.

In an instant, the restaurant is engulfed in a white haze. Some of the patrons flee, fearing the worst, including Tomas — who abandons his wife and kids in a moment of survival-driven panic.

“You ran away!” says Ebba. “Run? We all know you can’t run in ski boots!” says Tomas, desperate to reclaim his manhood and self-respect through denial. But the damage is done: Tomas did run away at the wrong moment, triggering an uncontrolled slide down their romantic couloir.

Playing the psychological drama with all the directorial finesse of a first-rate Alfred Hitchcock picture, Ostlund allows his characters to roam the distance between childish self-pity and grown-up stoicism.

Tomas is desperate to prove himself a man to his wife and his children, but he can’t achieve redemption until he’s honest with himself, and that’s where most of the suspense in the back half of the film occurs, as this flawed man slowly accepts his own humanity.

It’s a journey that lands in gentle layers, but eventually, as events collide and accumulate, the invisible forces of physics collude to create violent possibility.

Ostlund not only rides that wave of crushing power by unleashing all those inner demons, his efforts leave us emotionally chilled but giddy at having survived the experience.